Return to Albion
by TsucasaOfMeiji
Summary: Sometimes history repeats itself. Sometimes it gives you a second chance. Magical beings are heavily oppressed; being used and thrown away on a whim. Albion is in need of its true king once again, and only Merlin can make sure he survives long enough to make it happen. Reincarnated, Fem!M/A, Steampunk-ish Camelot
1. Introduction

**a/n- Reincarnated Fem!M/A in a AU-modern Camelot. **

**Small Introduction: The New Albion**

_**This is just a small overview of the world I'm trying to create, and there's still much more that I have in store but can't/won't reveal at this time, but I hope this helps just a bit to better understand where the story is going. ;)**_

** Camelot's View on Magic:**

Camelot does not outlaw magic, but does have a censorship on magic. Magical beings are segregated from the rest of the population and are only allowed certain jobs. Harsher punishments are placed on magical beings found breaking the law, and Mundanes have power over all magical beings. If a Mundane harms or murders a magical being, it is ignored.

Each magical being in Camelot must be registered and fit with a metal wristband that has markings describing his/her magics. The band also doubles as a way to collect extra "taxes" from magical beings. They are fit with a crystal that connects to a vault of crystal cores that harvests magic for conversion to energy.

Capital punishment for a non-magical being includes working the mines (Crystal Cave), while magical beings are either thrown to the Gean Canach or having their magic completely drained through their wristband before being executed.

**Technology:**

The New Albion is a Steampunk-ish world with a combination of old and new technology. There are no modern-day cars, no computers, etc., but there are motorbikes instead of horses, guns, weapons against magic and the like. The motorbikes vary from kingdom to kingdom and bandits tend to scavenge parts and have "Frankenstein" bikes made from bits and pieces. The bikes are fueled by magic which is harvested in crystal cores.

Guns can be normal bullet shooting guns, or can have crystal cores for using magic against magical beings. Armor is usually heavy leathers coupled with bullet-proof vests and helmets, much like S.W.A.T team gear but much less modern. Camelot warriors are still called "knights", other kingdoms vary.


	2. Chapter 1: Destiny

**a/n- Reincarnated Fem!M/A in a AU-modern Camelot. Magic is monitored and controlled by the Queen and the Knights of Camelot, magical beings segregated from the rest of the population. Steampunk-ish world of old and new technology combined. **

**Chapter 1: Destiny **

"_**Destiny is real. And she's not mild-mannered. She will come around and hit you in the face and knock you over and before you know what hit you, you're naked- stripped of everything you thought you knew and everything you thought you didn't know- and there you are! A bloody nose, bruises all over you, and naked. And it's the most beautiful thing." **_

_**-C. JoyBell C.**_

Merlin had been wondering through Essetir for two months after the soldiers' raid on Ealdor had taken the life of her father and left her hometown shattered. Many had fled to Camelot to escape the tyrant King, but with her magic she knew she wouldn't be welcomed as a refugee in the land that hated her kind more than thieves and murderers .

"**Forbearnan**," she chanted softly into the dark, causing a small stack of damp wood to light fire. She pulled her jacket closed and took off her trainers, setting them by the fire to dry. Her father had been powerful, a Dragonlord, he had explained, but dragons didn't exist anymore. Nonetheless, Merlin had felt the transfer of his power to her the moment his last breath left his lips. Ealdor had been their home for years, none of the townspeople knowing of her or her father's magic. They had made a meager but peaceful living owning a used book store, which also allowed Merlin a chance to study magic when her father was able to get hold of spell books.

* * *

_The soldiers came in the night. Merlin woke to gunfire and screams and her father's hand covering her mouth. He put a finger to his lips and she nodded that she understood. He already had their leather packs on the floor. Merlin quickly squirmed into a pair of thick jeans, pulling on a shirt and throwing a red scarf around her neck before slipping on her trainers and jacket. She grabbed a couple of her spellbooks off of a shelf along with more useful items and tossed them into her pack. Balinor grabbed her wrist and pulled her out the back door, forcing her head down as torchlights scanned around. She tucked herself close to her father's side as they silently slipped from one obstacle to another, hearing the cries of the townspeople still filling the night._

_ "There's two more over here!" Merlin squinted as the torchlight hit her eyes, her heart sinking in her stomach. _

_ Balinor pulled Merlin behind his back and held his palm out toward the soldier, his eyes glowing gold in the darkness. "__**Ástríce!**__" The soldier screamed, followed by a dull thud as he was flung against the side of the building. _

_ "Sorcerer!" another soldier rounded the corner, gun drawn and crystal glowing with a charge. Merlin heard the shuffling of more soldiers coming to join their companion and wrapped her fingers around her father's hand tightly._

_ Balinor's eyes glanced wildly from side to side, finally settling on his daughter with a look of cooled compassion. He lowered himself to his knees and placed his palm on Merlin's cheek. "Merlin, listen to me now. Go to the border of the kingdom, as close as you can to Camelot. Then make your way to the foot of the Feorre Mountain. There you will find a cave with a large stream running through it. Find that cave and find Aithusa. She'll tell you all you need to know," he smiled sadly, running his hand from her cheek to her hair._

_ "No! I won't leave without you," Merlin shook her head, her wild raven hair flying around her._

_ "Merlin, you must go! You are destined for so much more than this life, and only you can restore the Albion our kin once knew. You must believe that and keep that hope with you," he leaned his forehead briefly against hers, wiping away her silent tears with his thumbs. "This is not the end, my daughter. I will always be, as you will always be," Balinor got to his feet, shoving Merlin in the opposite direction. "Now go! Find Aithusa. Save Albion."_

Merlin didn't look back as she fled that night. Even as she heard her father's voice, bold and clear, chanting spells and the ground started quaking under her feet. Even as the soldiers answered his revolt with gunfire from the crystalline weapons. Even as the insurmountable pain shocked a gasp from her lips as her father fell and his magic transferred to her.

* * *

It had taken her weeks to scour for a safe passage across the land. The army that raided Ealdor spread like wildfire through the neighboring towns, making it impossible to buy fresh supplies or get a decent night's sleep. Merlin only caught bits and pieces of information from other refugees about the raids- a powerful sorceress prophesied to have returned and hiding in Essetir. It was known throughout the five kingdoms that King Nero awaited her return, insistent to avenge her part in the fall of Essetir centuries ago.

Merlin weaved her way through the broken towns and scattered peoples, finally coming to the border and the foot of the Feorre Mountain. The cave itself wasn't hard to find- emitting an aura of ancient magics from a time long ago.

She sat by the fire, her mind tumbling through her father's words of destiny. Suddenly aggravated she screamed her anger fused with her magic, causing the fire to rise in the cavern. "I don't know what you wanted me to do! How am I supposed to save Albion?" Merlin cried out, hands fisted together tightly.

"Oh, young Emrys," a faint voice echoed around her.

Merlin shuffled to her feet, moving out of the light of the fire. "Who are you? How do you know that name?"

"Because," replied the voice, "centuries ago it was Emrys who named me." A shadow cast against the stone and a lithe figure appeared before the flame. If Merlin had anything to describe the woman by it would had been beautifully broken. Her skin was the most translucent Merlin had ever seen, glowing like moonlight in the cavern, while her white hair flowed down her back to meet the bottom of her pale blue dress. But what had Merlin stumbling for words was the twisted bones in the woman's arms and back- curving in unnatural directions. But this didn't seem to hinder the woman's graceful strides as she crossed the cavern.

Merlin felt the same ancient magic that surrounded the cave coming from the woman. She reached out with her own magic, her eyes sparking gold and a light pulse between them when their magics touched. Immediately flashes popped in Merlin's mind and she grabbed her head between her hands. A light-blue egg hatching, a white dragon emerging and spreading its wings for the first time. A sense of awe and wonder and relief and love all focused on the creature. "Ai-Aithusa! You're Aithusa!" she managed to gasp out. Aithusa smiled and nodded, kneeling before Merlin and bowing her head.

"But you're a dragon. Dragon's died out centuries ago."

"No, Emrys, we only awaited your return. The passing of time has made it necessary to hide our true form but our magics and wills are still the same," the dragon stated. She released her hold on her disguise long enough for Merlin to catch a glimpse of mother-of-pearl scales and reptilian eyes.

"My father... he knew of you. He told me to find you," Merlin's tone was accusing. "Why did he hide all this from me?"

Aithusa sighed, her nose flaring in a puff, and sat by the fire. Merlin inched her way out of the shadows and joined the dragon, warming her hands over the flames. "There's much for you know," she started, "but much still that you cannot know. Balinor knew of your destiny and chose to keep you from it for as long as possible. He cannot be blamed, for it is a hard and merciless path that you must take."

Merlin laid her chin on her knees and stared at the fire. "My father spoke of destiny as well. It's the reason he sent me to look for you. Tell me, Aithusa, what _is_ my destiny?" The young sorceress could have sworn the dragon smirked at her question. Merlin raised her head and shifted in her seat.

"Arthur Pendragon is your destiny. He is the Once and Future King who will unite Albion and restore its magic, but only if you are by his side as his protector and guardian."

"_Pendragon?!" _Merlin scoffed with disdain. "My great destiny is to babysit the son of magic's greatest enemy?"

"Do not make light of this, young one. Arthur once created an Albion equal and united with magic. When he was laid to rest it was prophesied that when Albion needed him most he would return to claim the throne and restore Albion."

Merlin shook her head. "He's the prince of Camelot. He'd sooner have me thrown to the Gean Canach and executed than listen to what a sorceress has to say."

Aithusa chuckled. "My Lady, _that_ is your destiny. For Arthur to become the great king he is destined to become, _you_ must show him that not all magic is evil and that our kin should be freed."

Merlin played with the edge of her scarf as she considered the dragon's words. "Even if I _do_ agree to all this," she stated slowly, "how am I supposed to get close to him? I'm not even from Camelot, and with the raids going on there's no way I'll get approved transfer papers. Refugees will be checked for magic before they're allowed to cross the borders."

The white dragon's lips curled upward in a smirk.

* * *

Merlin hitched her pack higher on her shoulder as her blue eyes glanced through the gates of the ancient castle city. Cobblestone streets were full of people going from shop to shop buying their wares, and kids running to get to their early morning classes on time. Through all of Albion this was the last place she would ever thought to have found herself, yet here she was standing at the great gates of her enemy being looked down upon by the city guards as she stood staring down the path.

"Papers?" one of the guards asked harshly.

"Yeah. Yeah, right," Merlin flipped her red scarf out of the way and dug in her jacket pockets, pulling out the parchment papers Aithusa had conjured up and handing them nervously to the guard.

"Reason for visiting?" he asked as he inspected the documents.

"Uhh... educational. I'm supposed to start learning medicine under a Doctor Alice...?" She sputtered out. The guard quirked an eyebrow as he handed back her papers.

"Alice is the royal surgeon. You'll find her on the castle grounds. Show your papers to the guards at the castle. If you _are_ expected by her, they'll show you the way," he stood aside, shifting his gun in Merlin's full view in warning. She shuffled past him to the sidewalk, tilting her head up as she walked under the gates with a long sigh. If she had any second thoughts at all, it was too late to turn back now. Merlin took her first steps within the city walls with trepidation. The streets were loud and bustling with citizens going about their daily routines. A bike-cart hauled firewood past Merlin, jousting her to sidestep to keep herself from being run down.

She had to show Aithusa's forged papers again as she left the lower town, noticing the large difference between the homes and shops, and again as she left the city and entered the castle grounds. Merlin felt her heart pumping extra fast and her palms sweat as the castle guard looked over the papers longer and more thoroughly than the others had. She was sure he was about to pull out his gun and escort her to the cells for the faked documents when he folded the papers and handed them back to her with a grin. Merlin was shaking in relief when the guard did nothing more but give her directions to the medical wing that he told her also housed Alice's small apartment.

Several beds lined either side of the wall, separated by thin mesh-like material. Merlin recognized several of the patients as being refugees from Essetir. A larger old woman with long braided hair was bustling about and giving instructions to the other girls hanging about. She stopped when she spotted Merlin standing at the entrance, furrowing her brows and wiping her hands across the front of her apron.

"What's this about, then?" she asked with an exhausted sigh.

"I-I'm here to study under Doctor Alice. She should be expecting me," Merlin fidgeted.

"Well I'm Alice and I'll tell you right now that I'm not expecting anyone, nor am I taking on any other students. If you want to learn medicine there's a nice herbologist in the city that can get you started."

Merlin started to panic as the woman waved her away and turned back to one of the other girls. She tugged on her scarf and shifted from one foot to the other, racking her brain for a solution. "Aithusa said you would be expecting me!" she shouted across the room. If anything it seemed to get Alice's attention. Her shoulder's swerved around, her long braid swinging around with the force.

"What's your name, child?"

"Merlin," she held her voice steady. Alice nodded once, gave a few instructions to the girl before her, and walked back to Merlin. She grabbed the girl's arm and silently led her down a side corridor into the small housing apartment and locked the door behind her. The main room was overflowing with books, much to Merlin's delight, but she didn't get a chance to even glimpse a title before she was forced into a chair opposite of the old woman.

"You're Emrys?" she questioned in a unbelieving tone.

"My father said that's the name the druids gave me, yes," Merlin replied sharply.

Alice shook her head with an exasperated sigh. "Aithusa said you would come. I do have to say, I expected the great sorceress to be a bit... more."

Merlin grinned crookedly. "Sorry to disappoint."

"No, no. Aithusa has appointed me to refine your skills as you seek your destiny in Camelot. You can drop your bags in the extra room. I expect you to help out as much as you can just to keep suspicions down, and you'll need a job for income. It's not cheap living in the city."

Merlin took everything in strides. She emptied her few belongings in her new room; furnished with a bed, nightstand, rug, and small wardrobe. She used her magic to pry a stone from the wall and hallow it out, using the space to hide the spellbooks she had managed to carry with her, and walked back out to the main room to see Alice talking with a dark-skinned girl around her own age. Alice looked annoyed and the girl bit at her bottom lip.

"Ah, Merlin," Alice said as she noticed the sorceress had emerged. "This is Gwenevere. Gwen, this is Merlin. She'll be staying here and learning under me from now on," she put a hand to her forehead and swirled the other in the air as if conjuring something. "She's a family friend. Distant. Had to take her in and all that, you know," she turned to Merlin with a suddenly bright, wicked smirk. "Gwen may have found just the job for you, my dear."

Maybe it was the lightly evil grin from Alice, or it could have been the look of pity she was receiving from Gwen, but Merlin couldn't help the bit of dread that dropped in the pit of her stomach. "Great," she forced a smile, "what is it?"

* * *

A/N: ehhh... first chapter done? As stated this will be a Steampunk-ish themed story, as in old and new tech is combined with magic. You'll see familiar and new things in this Camelot. Hope you like! R&R, please!


	3. Chapter 2: Servant & Master

**Chapter 2: Servant and Master**

"_**What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant?" **_

_**-Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice**_

Arthur had known Alice since he was a baby. She had been there for his birth. She had been the one to bandage his scrapped arms and legs when he was 8 years old and tried to take off with one of the knight's motorbikes. She had been the one to cure his hangover the morning after his 13 year old self had decided to sneak to a tavern for a night out. And she had been the one who had stitched him up just last year at 17 years of age when a bullet had grazed his shoulder between his armor during his first War Games. So, when Arthur had a problem, he only saw fit to run to Alice.

His young manservant sat on the bed with a look of complete terror still clearly written across his face. His knight, Leon, held a cloth to the boy's bleeding forehead, giving the prince a disapproving look. Arthur finally threw his hands in the air and growled. "Look, Fang_,"_

"Fane," Leon corrected.

Arthur scowled and continued. "Look, _Fane_, all you had to do was stand _still_. Even a simpleton could do that! It's your own fault you got nicked."

"Arthur Pendragon, what have you gone and done now?" Alice demanded as she entered the medic wing, Gwen and a pale-skinned blue-eyed girl trailing behind her. Arthur didn't remember seeing this girl about the castle and made a mental note to ask Gwen about her later, when his life wasn't in danger. Alice had made her way to Fane's side and carefully removed Leon's hand. She sucked in a breath between her teeth when she saw the wound. "And how, exactly, did this happen?"

Arthur squared his shoulders, placing a look of indifference on his face. "Target training. All he had to do was _stand still!_"

"You were using your servant for a target?!"

"Of course not, Alice!" the corner of Arthur's lips twitched in a smirk. "It was the apple on his head I was aiming for."

"Gwen, take over here. A few simple stitches and antiseptic should do." Merlin followed Alice and the prince out of the bed area to the open space between. "You know you just lost another servant, don't you? The reason you can't keep a servant around more than a week is because no one can stand working for you," Alice replied exasperated. "Your demands are beyond unreasonable for a simple servant."

"The reason I _don't_ keep a servant is because they are all useless!" Arthur scoffed.

"What about George? He was a fine fellow."

Arthur sneered. "Yes, George. A fine fellow indeed. He also took it upon himself to organized my underwear to suit his favorite styles to least favorite. And he tried to color coordinate my outfits with his!"

"Yes, well..." Alice cleared her throat to hide a laugh, Arthur glared at her anyway, "we all have quirks that others must endure."

"I'm the prince! I shouldn't have to endure," Arthur pouted.

Merlin stood back and watched in shock, slack-jawed. This... this _prat_ was supposed to be the crowned prince of Camelot? She felt the limited amount of determination she had managed to build up for her 'destiny' dissipate. The "Greatest" king? The "Savior" of Albion? Surely they didn't mean _this_ Arthur? Did he have a cousin? A distant relative?

"How about Merlin, then?" Alice asked, and Merlin nearly tore a muscle turning her neck so fast to glare at the woman. Alice ignored her, grabbing her by the arm and thrusting her in front of the prince as if she were an object being sold at a market.

Arthur raised a single eyebrow at Alice. "This scrawny girl?" A sharp elbow to her side kept Merlin from responding with a less than servant-like remark as the prince circled her. "She's incredibly thin. I doubt she'd hold up on long trips," he turned to Alice, ignoring Merlin's existence completely. "Does she even know how to ride? Judging from her looks it doesn't seem like she's ever been near a motorbike, much less knows how to keep up with repairs."

"I guarantee she's a fast learner, Sire, and a hard worker. Best of all no matter what happens I will not allow her to quit."

Merlin couldn't help the sound of annoyed shock that made it's way out of her chest, her mouth hanging open as she stared at Alice. The prince gave a wide, toothy grin and slammed her on the shoulder, nearly making her topple over. "It's settled then! She starts tomorrow. I expect nothing less than perfect, Alice!"

* * *

Merlin sat with Gwen outside of her dad's shop, several different metal parts in her hands and even more laying out in front of her. All morning Alice had went over her duties as Prince Arthur's new servant and the schedule she was expected to keep. Gwen had commented that her father worked a motorbike shop and could help Merlin learn how to ride and tune the thing when the need arose. Merlin was grateful, and the girl was more than nice, but she still held a look of pity in her eyes. Just how bad did this prat-prince treat his servants?

"Alice was right, you do learn fast," Gwen gave a small grin as Merlin managed to reattach the pieces as she was shown.

"Don't start praising me now. There's still a chance it might just blow up," Merlin replied in all seriousness as she threw her leg over the seat and started the machine. It vibrated under her, the crystalline engine giving out a soft blue glow. That was a promising start. Giving it some thrust it lurched forward and Merlin raced around the make-shift track a few times before she was satisfied that it was, indeed, not going to blow up. She parked the motorbike only to be met by Gwen, hiding her hands behind her back.

"So," Gwen started and thrust a gun and armor before her, "how good are you with these?"

* * *

Merlin raced down the hallways, shouting apologies as people sneered at her for nearly colliding with them. In one hand she half balanced a tray of breakfast foods, in the other she had a scrawled out map of the castle in her own writing that she herself could barely make out.

Learning mechanics from Gwen had been horrible. She had to know each and every part and function; where it went, what it looked like and what it was supposed to sound like when working properly. Same with the different guns and weapons. Then came the armor; the thick leathers, the bullet-proof vests, helmets, and sleeves. All of them had to be properly measured, placed, tied, and strapped.

Worse yet, after all was done and she entered the apartment she shared with Alice, covered with dirt and grease and grime, the older woman had laid out on the table a stack of books with marked pages for her to read before she started her work in the morning. Needless to say she didn't get to bed until late into the night, which made her late getting up and to the kitchens to fetch Arthur's breakfast.

She stuffed the map in her pocket and knocked on the prince's door before shoving it open with her head bowed. "Sorry I'm late, Sire! I got lost on my way from the kitchens and..." Merlin's feet faltered, almost sending the tray of food tumbling to the stone floor. With her face flushed she averted her eyes to the door. Instead of being up and dressed like the rest of the castle, the prince was still happily asleep in his rather large bed. His golden hair was a tangled mess against his pillow, covers strewn on the floor, one leg was sticking out beside the bed and his red boxers covered bum was sticking up from beneath the thin sheet.

At first Merlin was unsure what she was supposed to do. Should she just leave his breakfast on the table and go? But it was already half past seven, and the prince was due for a meeting with the Queen and knights about the raids in half an hour. She sighed, cursing Alice under her breath and swallowing her embarrassment. She plastered a grin on her face, put the food on the table, and jerked the curtains open. "Rise and shine, Sire!"

The look on Arthur's face was priceless; to Merlin, anyway. His baby blues were now wide open and his hands gripped his sheets, pulling them up to his neck in modesty. "What the _hell_, Merlin?!"

Merlin hid her amusement by crossing the room to Arthur's wardrobe to pick out his outfit, turning her back and allowing him to stumble behind the changing screen. "You're a bit late waking up this morning, _Sire._ It would have been a shame to allow you to sleep though your meeting with the Queen," She laid the clothes over the top of the screen, allowing her hand to linger a few seconds before pulling away.

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat, "you could have sent one of my men to wake me."

"Oh no, _Sire!_" By this time Merlin was having a fit to hold in her giggles, leaning against the bedpost with one hand holding her stomach. "It is my duty to tend to your _every_ need. I wouldn't dare bother a guard or a knight to perform one of my tasks in my stead," she held her hand over her mouth and snorted. Arthur's head popped up over the changing screen with his eyebrow raised, looking questioningly at the servant who was bent over, now laughing at the sight of him.

"_You!"_ he strolled out from behind the screen, jeans slung low on his hips and tunic held in his hand currently pointing an accusing finger at Merlin. "You did this to humiliate me."

"I-" Merlin tried to reign in her out of control giggles at the prince's confused face. "I can hardly be blamed for your state of undress, Sire."

Arthur's cheeks turned red; wether with embarrassment or anger Merlin didn't know, but she liked to think it was a bit of both. "I should have you thrown in the cells."

"Sire, I-"

"Or working in the mines!"

"Yes, that's good and all but-"

"I don't even think you could survive a day working in those mi-"

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted, effectively shutting the prince's mouth with an audible snap. "You can go on all day about my gruesome death but if you're not in the throne room in ten minutes you're going to be working the mines right beside me. The Queen doesn't seem to be someone you want to keep waiting."

Arthur mumbled a curse under his breath, yanking his tunic over his head and stumbling across the floor to land on his bed. Merlin grabbed his combat boots and struggled to tie them on the prince's feet as he thrashed about. "_Mer_lin!"

"Oh, you are _hopeless_, you prat!" Merlin sighed as she finished his boots and went to work untangling his arms from his tunic, making sure the right limb came out the right hole. She grabbed his comb on his nightstand, dunking it in his untouched glass of water and pulled it through his gold locks to tame them. She grabbed an apple from his plate of food on her way to his wardrobe for a belt and tossed it to him as she pulled him to his feet and started looping the belt.

The two walked swiftly down the halls, Arthur munching his apple and Merlin struggling to follow his long strides. "You may be a relative of Alice, but my mother won't put up with your rudeness. When you're in her presence keep your head down and your mouth shut," his eyes turned to look her over. "Since you don't seem to know anything about what a servant should and should not do just watch the others for clues and do exactly as they do. You will call me 'Prince' or 'Sire' when instructed. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sire," Merlin replied, hands fisted nervously at her sides. Arthur gave her a pleased nod and stopped in front of a large set of doors. Merlin scrambled to open them and tailed the prince inside.

"Since you are my personal servant you serve only me. Unless the Queen specifically asks something of you. Understand?" Arthur whispered as they made their way down the long table already full of knights standing to welcome their prince.

"Yes, Sire," she answered, pulling out the chair nearest to the front of the table and bowing her head. Merlin could have sworn the prat was hiding a smirk. She forgot all else as the Queen entered with her personal guard and Merlin stood behind Arthur with her head bowed, but her eyes cast in an upward glance. Queen Ygraine certainly had a powerful air about her. The knights, and even the prince, had bowed their heads in respect when she entered. Merlin could also see where Arthur got his gold hair and blue eyes, but where his hair was a boyish mess the Queen's was a regal waterfall down her back that matched her crown perfectly, and instead of Arthur's soft baby blues there was a jagged iciness that she felt could cut a man down with just one cold gaze.

Merlin realized she had been staring when Arthur cleared his throat and tilted his head toward his chair. She quickly pushed it under for him, the knights around the table following suit. Watching the other servants, Merlin took a step back and to the side with her head lowered and hands folded politely in front of her. She mentally cringed. If she had to stand like this for long she just might end up working in the mines.

Leon was obviously Arthur's right hand man, as he did most of the talking for the knights and informed Arthur and the Queen on the situation with the refugees and raids in Essetir. Merlin kept her head down in respect but was careful to listen in and to refill Arthur's class of wine when it was empty. At first he only spoke of boring things; crops and taxes and economics that had Merlin stifling a yawn, but towards the end of the meeting the knight finally got down to business and she perked up to listen.

"King Nero's soldier's make their way further north, away from our borders, but we get more Essetir refugees everyday. Mercia has already closed its borders to the refugees, so we expect to have more within the next few days," Leon flipped through his pages of notes and returned his gaze to the Queen. "Currently the refugees in Camelot number in the hundreds, but if needed we can still manage to take in more."

Queen Ygraine picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, placing it smoothly back on the table. "Why should we? Camelot holds no alliance with Essetir and we gain nothing from its people but burdens. Close the borders and instruct the patrols that anyone trying to cross should be killed on sight."

"I disagree, Mother. When Camelot banned Vivienne and her daughters from its borders King Nero went mad with his obsession about the old stories. How can we allow innocent to suffer when Camelot had a hand in his undoing?" Merlin had forgotten about keeping her head down, and was now looking back and forth between the queen and Arthur. Maybe it was just her, but Arthur's statement sounded a bit rehearsed, like he was planning this retaliation from the beginning. Merlin smiled, just a bit, before the cold glare of the queen brought her back down to reality.

"_**I**_ banned that disgraceful sorceress and her worthless children. Are you saying, Arthur, that your Queen is to blame for Nero's actions?"

"Of course not, Your Majesty!" Arthur quickly replied, exasperated. "I only meant to say that King Nero has always been too caught up with histories to care for the living. He believes either Morgana or Morgause is this sorceress of the past. The question here isn't weather we should intervene in how King Nero rules his kingdom, but if he should be allowed to continue ruling it in his maddened state."

"Arthur, your youth and inexperience still shows. A mad man he may be, but Nero has a army that rivals our own. Would you send Camelot into a war we may not win? Because _that_, my son, is exactly what you are suggesting," the queen chastised Arthur like she was chastising a disobedient child. Merlin could see his knuckles turn white from his tight hold.

Finally Arthur sighed. "Of course not, Mother. I will always put Camelot and its people first."

The queen smirked and picked up her glass, swirling the liquid around the bottom. "Good. Organize the patrols and make sure extra are sent to the north. Give the refugees already in Camelot a week to leave. Never let it be said that I'm not generous."

* * *

Merlin was once again straining to follow Arthur's long strides down the castle halls back to his room, listening to him grumbling under his breath the entire walk. He didn't bother to wait for Merlin to open the door for him, and nearly slammed it on the young girl before she was able to slip in after him.

"That went rather well, I think," Merlin said sarcastically, trying to lighten the prince's mood as she lugged out his armor for his daily training session with the knights.

Arthur gave her a cold glare. "She _knew_ I would fight her on this. Then twisting my words to make me sound like a war-seeking tyrant!"

"Arms up, Sire." Arthur raised both arms in the air, Merlin slinging a thick leather padding over his chest and arms.

"I'm not a tyrant! I do think of my own people."

"Here, strap these," Merlin tossed the bulletproof vest over Arthur's chest and tossed the straps around the front while she bent down to work on lacing his shin guards.

"And to make me look a fool in front of my own knights was taking it too far!" His hands fumbled with the straps. "They are my men! How can I expect them to respect me when my own _Mother_ brushes off my ideals?"

Merlin twisted around her head to look up at Arthur, "They won't."

"_Mer_lin, why am _I _doing this?!" he yelled, frustrated, as he finally realized he hadn't managed to get one of the straps fixed across his chest.

"Well, I thought since the refugees only have a week Alice might need help preparing medicines for the injured before they leave. The faster I'm done with you the faster I can get down to help Alice and Gwen," she grunted as she stood from the stone floor and batted the prince's hand away from the straps, working them with fluid motion. When she looked up Arthur's eyes were on her, eyebrows cocked in curiosity and head tilted to the side.

"You did very well today, Merlin. You could almost pass as a competent servant instead of the annoying arse you were this morning."

"Thank you, Sire. And you could almost pass as a compassionate prince instead of a prat," Merlin replied with a crooked grin.

"I can have you executed, you know."

Merlin snorted. "Yes, yes, your Royal Pratness. Have me shot in front of the firing squad for seeing your royal bum this morning. Try explaining that one to your knights," as she continued to adjust his armor her face and demeanor sobered. "Sire, for what it's worth, I do think you are right. The people of Essetir shouldn't suffer because of the madness of their king."

Arthur ran his hand through his hair. "I'm not all sure if it is madness, Merlin. My mother hates magic because an enchantress tricked my father into her bed. It resulted in a baby girl, a priestess. Morgana. My half sister," he smiled sadly. Merlin swallowed as she attached Arthur's holster to his belt. "A priestess has claim to the throne of Camelot, and with our army and magic on her side none of the other four kingdoms would stand a chance. Calling King Nero mad was just my best defense to getting help to Essetir. But threat or no threat, sacrificing his people is no way to go about it."

"Your sister, Morgana, is she really all that bad?" Merlin had slipped behind Arthur to grab his gun. The prince spun around with an agitated look across his face.

"She's a rogue priestess, of course she's 'that bad', you half-whit!" Arthur paced the floor, eyes shifting. "Fine. Fine," he walked up to Merlin, pining her between him and the bedpost. "You want to know just how 'bad' magic can be? Go set yourself up in the armory and be on the target range in twenty minutes. Then I'll show you just how dangerous sorcery can be."

* * *

**A/N: Chapter 2! R&R, please! Like, no like? Is the Fem! Merlin too OOC? Give some hints people! :)**


	4. Chapter 3: Evil Breeds Evil

**Chapter 3: Evil Breeds Evil**

"_**Evil is an act, not an appetite. How many haven't wanted to slash the throat of some boor across the dining room table? Present company excepted of course. Everyone has the appetite. If you give in to it, it, that act is evil. The appetite is normal." **_

― _**Gregory Maguire, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West**_

Merlin walked onto the open field, the overly large armor shifting on her shoulders. The gun at her side felt foreign and unwelcome at her side; the same weapon she had dodged on multiple occasions and that had ultimately brought about her father's death. The magic from the crystalline core buzzed and sizzled when it reached out and touched her own, making Merlin feel uncomfortable. The field had several different target ranges, each one filled with knights in different stages of training. One range consisted of new recruits without armor shooting each other with balls of paint. Another had knights with just the thick leather armor and masks over their faces getting hit by rubber bullets. Further on Merlin could see a few brave (or just plain stupid) knights getting hit by _actual_ bullets in their chest-pieces, or by the magical blasts usually reserved for sorcerers.

Unfortunately, that's where Merlin found Arthur. A clear shield dropped from his helmet and covered his face, back to back with Leon, with two other pairs of knights circling the two. Arthur shoved Leon to the side and ducked, dodging a magical blast and allowing it to pass by and hit one of the other knights. The knight was tossed back several feet before smashing to the ground. Knights that had stood to the side quickly rushed in and pulled him out of the line of fire. Arthur kept one hand on his gun and held out the other to help Leon back to his feet. Instead of stopping, he twirled the other man around, shots ringing. In the end three knights were being pulled from the range and Arthur and Leon jumped apart, chests raising and falling with their heavy breaths, guns aimed expertly in center of the others chest.

They stayed in their intense stand-off until Arthur dropped to the ground and barrel-rolled to the right, Leon leaping to the left. Merlin heard several shots go off, but neither men went down. Arthur's free hand reached into his belt, pulling out a large hunting knife and let if fly to the knight. The knife flipped through the air until the hilt hit Leon's gun hand, causing the knight to drop his weapon. Leon growled out in displeasure as the prince sprung to his feet with his gun aimed at the knights head with a smirk. Leon raised his hands in the air in surrender, Merlin releasing a breath she didn't realize she had been holding when Arthur finally replaced his gun in the holster at his side with a laugh. There were whistles and chants from the sidelines, Arthur and Leon grabbing each others wrists in a good sportsmanship-like shake.

"I thought I had you that time, Sire," Leon said, removing his helmet and wiping his brow.

"Only if you grow another set of eyes," Arthur mirrored Leon's actions. He turned his head and caught Merlin's eyes with a wicked smirk, sending chills down the young sorceress' spine. Did he really expect her to fight like that? She remembered the poor bloke from the day before, Fane, her predecessor, laying in the medical wing with a bullet wound grazing his forehead. Silently she defied the prince any chance of putting an apple near her head, even with her magical ability to divert the bullet.

"Look at this, Leon! Can't even tell there's a girl under there," Arthur teased, rapping his hand on the top of Merlin's helmet. "Just a scrawny servant playing pretend."

"Sire, she has no training. Please think this over," Leon's voice was monotone, like he had given the speech a thousand times and already knew the outcome. Which he did.

"No worries. _Mer_lin seems to think that magic is harmless. I just think she needs a lesson on just how dangerous sorcery can be." A few of the knights laughed, pointing at Merlin and whispering to each other. She was sure a few coins exchanged hands. Great. Were they betting on how long she lasted or if she survived at all? Leon sighed as he approached the girl, drawing out her weapon and clicking a dial on the side and locking it in place.

"He's using the lowest setting, I'll make sure of it. It'll do no more than knock you off your feet or leave you a little breathless. His weakest side is his left, so aim for his right. He tends to overcompensate," the knight replaced Merlin's gun and patted her shoulder before leaving her to check Arthur's weapon as well. Merlin felt a low tremor starting at the base of her spine as the prince beckoned her to the field and lowered his facemask. Merlin had a little trouble lowering her own facemask. Nothing about the armor seemed to want to work with her, like it knew she wasn't made for those armor or weapons and were retaliating for being used. Eventually she forced the shield down, hearing cackling from the knights when the helmet nearly covered her eyes. Arthur didn't seem to notice, or care, of his opponents misfortune.

A knight, not Leon this time, entered the field on the side with a flag of the Pendragon crest of red and gold held high above his head. Arthur moved his hand above his gun, and Merlin mimicked his movements. Her eyes flicked between Arthur's cocky smirk and the knight that held the flag until finally the flag dropped. Immediately there were roars and cheers from the other knights, and Arthur's hand dropped to his gun. Merlin had only seen him fight once, just moments ago, and that had been enough for her to know she didn't stand a chance of outdrawing him. As he raised his gun she did the only thing she could think of: she fell into a dead drop to the ground, a blast of energy whizzing past her head by inches.

When Merlin gained the courage to glance up, Arthur's expression was shocked, which quickly gave way to anger as his knights whistled at Merlin and laughed. She scrambled to her feet and grabbed her own gun in both her hands, feeling its heavy weight and her heart hammering in her chest way too fast. The magic inside felt angry and confined. It _wanted_ to be released. Following Leon's advice she took aim low on Arthur's right side. But her own magic fought against it, taming the magic back. Her finger faltered on the trigger, giving the prince the time he needed for his gun to recharge and he fired again. This time Merlin wasn't as lucky. She was so focus on the dueling magics she wasn't paying any attention to the blast heading her way until it nailed her feet, sending her tumbling to the ground and she lost her hold on her own weapon.

Leon lied. Or Arthur had cheated. It wasn't just a simple stumble or moment of breathlessness as the knight had promised. Merlin felt fire engulf her entire body as soon as the blast hit. She gasped, her lungs struggling to rake in air as voices laughed and cheered around her. The angry magic of the blast was causing her own to react, bouncing around within her and burning her from within. She turned herself around, supporting herself on her hands and elbows so her golden eyes were concealed as she fought against the invading magic. Merlin could now here someone shouting her name, but it was distant, like she was hearing it through water, and all the other noises had ceased. A cool hand gripped her shoulder lightly, making her scream out at the magics reaction to the touch. The hand immediately left her, followed by several voices mumbling near her. Merlin's entire focus was on pushing out the poisoned magic. Was this really how her father had died? Eaten alive by his own magic? She cringed, praying that maybe his death wasn't so painful, as her eyes faded to blue and her head hit the ground.

* * *

Arthur was livid that his first shot missed, but she had taken the cowards way out; falling to a dead drop to the ground with her arms over her head like a... like a... well... like a _girl._ The hum of the gun told Arthur it was in the process of charging, and Merlin was over the shock of the first blast and on her feet. Arthur didn't know what to expect from the little girl; not much, really, but he dug his heels in the ground ready to avoid a blast if need be. She pulled out her gun but stood there, seeming confused at what to do with it. Surely she at least knew how to pull a trigger? The prince started to feel a little bad for the servant. Maybe he should have given Leon a few minutes to teach her the basics. His gun clicked, signaling its full charge, and Arthur smirked as he aimed. The least he could do was make it quick and the least embarrassing for the girl as he could. The blast hit her feet, knocking the servant girl down on her bum and her gun rolled away. Arthur turned to his knights with his arms raised in triumph and a grin on his face. When his eyes locked with Leon the knight rolled his eyes. Arthur just shrugged and replaced his weapon in its holster.

He turned around, about to goad on his victory to his servant, when he saw her still sprawled out in the grass. "Oh, come on Merlin, stop being such a spoil sport," he shook his head and chuckled. His smile dropped from his face when the girl writhed on the ground, letting out barely audible whimpers of pain. "Merlin?" She turned to the ground and leaned heavily on her arms as he approached, but didn't answer. "Merlin?" He called her name again and placed his hand on her shoulder. The scream she let out had all the knights silent and Leon by Arthur's side before he could remove his hand, then she dropped to the ground.

"Mer-Merlin?!" Arthur asked, confused.

"Sire, perhaps we should get her to Alice?" Leon had already removed her helmet and was scooping the servant girl in his arms. The prince nodded, pointing out one of his knights to take lead of the training and following Leon through the castle to the medical wing.

"Alice!" Alice and Gwen were already at one of the beds tending to one of the refugees when Arthur barged in yelling for the healer. Leon settled Merlin down on the first empty bed and stepped aside.

"Goodness, Arthur! Just what have you done, now!" Alice's eyebrows knit together at the sight of Merlin; pale and clammy on the sickbed.

"I just knocked her off her feet! It wasn't even a full blast!" the prince defended himself.

"A full blast- Arthur! Did you shoot her?!"

"It was on the lowest setting-"

"Did. You. Shoot. Her?" Arthur nodded. Alice shook her head and rubbed her temples with her fingers. "Gwen, third cabinet, second shelf, the Yerba mate. Boil it in water, please."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Arthur looked on as Alice forced the smelly tea past Merlin's lips and rubbed her throat to force her to swallow. His knee was anxiously bouncing as he watched, not noticing the small glow at Alice's fingertips as she forced more of the tea into Merlin's mouth. The girl choked and sputtered, Alice putting a hand on her back to help set her up in the bed. "There you go, there you go," she soothed, patting Merlin's back as she blinked herself awake.

"Alice? Wait.. what- _**you!**_" she pointed an accusatory finger at Arthur. "You shot me! You-you _**arse**_!"

Arthur's face contorted, his eyes narrowing. "Hold on now, I **am** the crowned prince. You have no right to speak to me-"

"The crowned prince of prat! You _shot_ me! Tell me, do you make it a habit to shoot all of your servants or just a special few?"

"It's your fault! I told you I'd show you how evil magic really is, and I did."

"Oh, it wasn't the magic that was evil, Arthur. Magic didn't trap itself in that gun did it? Magic didn't take aim. Magic didn't pull the trigger! All that was _you_!" Merlin sighed, leaning back on the bed exhausted.

"For heaven sakes, are you trying to land yourself in a coma?" Alice grabbed the tray beside the bed containing the empty cup and teapot. "Quite down. Including you, Sire, or I'll have you out. I'll be back with more tea in a bit."

Arthur shifted in his chair, the angry flush fading from his face. "Still... it's the magic that has you laid up now. You can't deny that."

"And I don't. But you can't sit there and say all magic is evil just because it has the potential to be used for evil," Arthur stared blankly at Merlin and she let out a loud groan. "Okay. Think of... Leon and a prisoner for murder in one of the cells. You trust Leon, yeah?"

"Of course I trust Leon, I wouldn't have him as a knight if I didn't! Get on with it."

Merlin glared at the prince but continued. "Leon has a knife and the prisoner has a knife. Same weapon. Leon used his knife to kill a man attacking the castle. The prisoner used his to kill a woman for her money. So tell me, prince, is the knife evil or is the prisoner evil?"

Arthur leaned back in his chair and stared at Merlin curiously. No one had ever questioned his authority as much as this insignificant little girl had in just two days. But she had made each and every time thought provoking points (not that he would ever admit _that_ much to her). "Alright then, _Mer_lin. What would you have me do, hm? Release every magician, every warlock, sorcerer, druid, and sorceress; leaving them free to roam Camelot as they please, not knowing which is evil and leaving every human to defend themselves against magic? Because once they are free our crystalline weapons will be drained in hours. Then it's back to the middle ages! No weapons to fight against magic," he grinned smugly.

Merlin sat up, forcing herself to look as strong and vibrant as she could in her state at the moment, and stared directly into Arthur's eyes until she was sure she had his full attention. "There will always be those with magic at your side to help you, Sire, if you desire it or not."

"Arthur! I've been looking for you!" Both the prince and Merlin twisted their heads to the open curtain at the grinning intruder. There was no stopping the small gasp his appearance enticed, earning her an even wider grin from the stranger. His dark brown hair was long and messy, his face unshaven for what looked like days at a time. He wore a simple black shirt that fit snuggly and cargo pants that hung low on his hips.

"Gwaine, you idiot!" Arthur growled through his teeth, cutting his eyes at Merlin. "You should address me as _Sire_."

Gwaine, however, had his eyes directed at Merlin and was waving off the prince's words and taking Merlin's hand his his. "Sure, anything you say, princess," Arthur glared and Merlin snorted. "And who is this?"

"No one important," the prince swatted Gwaine's hand away and yanked him by his shirt collar to the table in the center of the medical wing, Gwaine grinning back at Merlin and wiggling his fingers in goodbye. They were soon joined by Alice's apprentice, Gwen, and Merlin struggled to hear what was being said among the three in hushed voices while Alice shouldered her way past the curtain to Merlin's bed with the rancid smelling tea that she promptly turned her nose up to.

"Just drink it. It'll sort out your magic from the poisoned."

Merlin held her nose and downed the drink in one gulp, shaking her head to dislodge the taste from her tongue. Arthur and long-haired man were still whispering at the table, heads together, with Gwen glaring at them both. "Alice, who's that?" Melin nudged her head in their direction.

"Gwaine. He owns a bar in the lower town."

"Lower town?" her eyebrows creased and she chewed on her bottom lip. "What would Arthur be talking about with a bar owner from the lower town?"

Alice looked at the sorceress sternly. "I don't like that look on your face, Merlin. I hope you're not going to start any trouble."

Merlin gave her guardian a sloppy grin and crossed her arms behind her head. "Com'on, Alice! My second day in Camelot and I've already gotten shot by his royal prattness, himself. How much more trouble is there to get into?"

* * *

**A/N: I was writing this as the beginning to the next chapter, then it ran away...**

**BUT... at least I have half of the next chapter written. ;) Gwen is not my favorite character, but I'm trying not to be mean to her. Next chapter: The boys are back in town! R&R please!**


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